Part 3 – The Right People

We didn’t bring a pitch. We brought a level, a schedule, and the truth. I didn’t know how they found me. But there they were, standing with me in a home under construction….one of our builds. Turns out, they’d already done the recon. They knew who I was. Knew about Treo. Knew I served on a Governor Abbott board. Some might call that stalking… I call it doing your due diligence. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was walking into an interview I didn’t know I was taking. So, I did what I always do. I walked them through the job from framing to finishes. Not a sales pitch. Just a real look at how we build. How we frame. How we waterproof. Who’s swinging the hammer. Who’s laying the stone. These are the trusted trades who’ve been with us for years. We talked schedule. Budgets. Allowances. “This is what this costs.” “This is the cabinet allowance. Here’s the countertop line item.” You get the picture. We pulled back the curtain and showed the real thing. I didn’t hand them a brochure, instead I gave them the truth. That’s when their real story came out. They’d been burned. Their last builder? A referral from someone they trusted. The guy came off smooth, like a used car salesman with a tape measure. But behind the scenes, he was playing the old Rob Peter to pay Paul trick. Took draws he hadn’t earned. Dodged calls. Stretched timelines. Left them wondering who they could trust again. And I hate that. I really do. Because for every one of those guys cutting corners, there are good builders out here doing it the right way. Builders with integrity. Builders who care.  But now we have to work twice as hard to rebuild the trust he broke. And honestly, building the house is the easy part. It’s rebuilding trust that takes real work. People aren’t just shopping for a floor plan. They’re looking for someone they can trust not to screw them over. So I looked them in the eye and told them how we do things differently: We show our work We use trusted trades and vendors —folks who pay their bills and do it right We hold regular budget meetings —and raise the flag early if something’s pushing too far We use software so clients can see every dollar, every job log, every photo We walk the job with our clients —not because we have to, but because they deserve to know what’s going on behind the walls I told them I’m not perfect, but I try to do the right thing every single day. I go to church. I serve our community. I’ve been asked to sit on governing boards and even appointed to one by the Governor. Not because I’m special— but because I try to do what I say I’ll do. I was trying to help them see: I’m not that guy. That’s when she looked at me and said: “I know. I saw that. I looked you up.” That moment stuck with me. Long story short—we got the project. And yeah, they had some of the usual stress that comes with any custom home build: Does that paint go with the floor? Do I have enough can lights in the closet? Does this fireplace put out enough heat? But not once—not once—did they question the money. Because when you open the books, pull back the curtain, and just tell the truth— people breathe easier. And so do we.

“It’s one thing to build a house. It’s another to build two—put them in the spotlight—and try not to sweat through your shirt when someone asks what grout color you used.” “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” — Socrates We didn’t know exactly what to expect from our first Parade of Homes experience—but we did know we wanted our homes to be Parade Worthy. What better way to invite critique than to welcome 800 people through the front door and hear their thoughts in real time? Hmmm. The year we entered our first Parade, we didn’t just enter one house—we entered two. Sixty miles apart. At the same time. And just for kicks, one of them was our personal home. What could go wrong, right? We focused on what could go right. We were members of a winery conveniently located between the two homes. It quickly became our halfway pit stop, impromptu meeting spot, and occasional therapy session. (A good glass of wine can do wonders… but I digress.) The home sixty miles away? We built it in 22 weeks. Not because anyone demanded it—but because I gave my word to a friend and a developer, and I wasn’t about to break it. We pushed hard and got it done. No shortcuts. No excuses. Just head down, boots on, get to work. It was on this project that I learned what chiggers were. Ask me how I know… Parade of Homes is kind of like entering your kid in a talent show and praying they don’t trip on the way to the mic. You prep like crazy, stress over every detail, then hold your breath. That year, we learned we weren’t just builders—we were designers, hosts, logistics coordinators, and at times, on-call counselors. Every inch got judged. Every detail got questioned. And honestly, it made us better. Kristi, being the wise one, placed me in the other home during the showings—not our personal home—because she knew I’d probably try to sell it on the spot. She wasn’t wrong. That’s what builders do. But she held her ground, and she never complained once. We walked away with awards for both homes. Not because things went perfectly—but because we stayed with it. We showed up. We honored the details—and the deadlines. We learned to respect the entire process—not just the framing and finish-out. It starts on day one—the moment you’re standing in the dirt imagining what could be. That Parade sharpened our ability to plan and execute under pressure. It also taught us that you can move fast if your systems are strong and your standards stay high. But maybe the biggest lesson? You can’t do it alone. A solid team of vendors and craftsmen is what brings the vision to life. They’re the unsung heroes. We couldn’t have done it without them. That first Parade didn’t just showcase our homes. It showed us where we needed to grow. It revealed the gaps. It tested our grit. Would we do it again? Maybe.  But only with smarter systems, a good playlist, and a winery within reach.